


Discourse

by Rainyhart



Series: Enduring Life [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-20 00:51:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2409095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainyhart/pseuds/Rainyhart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam finally gets the conversation with Dean he's been waiting for and ends up with a whole new wave of mixed emotions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discourse

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the next part! I wanted to post this one earlier than I had planned due to the next part being nearly finished, so that one will be up at some point this week as well.

On Sunday night the phone rings just after Sam finishes off a load of laundry and he almost misses it. Lucifer had decided, earlier that evening, to spend a lot of time studying before they’re supposed to be back from Spring Break tomorrow morning. Most of the time that just meant he went for a long walk around campus, but it kept out from the dorm for a while anyway, and if Sam wasn’t in class when he left he’d usually join him. Today, however, laundry happened after class—and Sam couldn’t be more grateful that he’d managed to walk in the room in time to grab his phone and slip into the bathroom, locking it behind him on a force of habit for privacy. 

The bathroom, even if small, can make a voice echo at the slightest hint of noise, and he winces at the loud volume of it when he chokes out, “Dean, hey…”

“Hey Sammy,” Dean says, and _god_ Sam’s glad to hear that voice again he can’t help but let the corner of his mouth twitch into a smile. 

“Hey,” Sam breathes. Again. “You called,” he almost bites his tongue once it’s out, already cautious of another argument in continuation of the one they had back in November. It makes him feel nauseous just thinking about it, the anger and hurt on Dean’s face, the calculating look on Castiel’s, Lucifer’s guarded yet stoic, and Sam wishes he could erase all those different faces from his memory but because he can’t he tries to ignore them instead.

“Yeah,” Dean confirms quietly. He sounds farther away from the phone now, and there’s another sound on the end of the line too—running water, Sam thinks. “I have something I want to talk to you about,” He says before Sam can get anything else in. 

The sound of the running water suddenly makes his mouth go dry. 

“Oh, yeah. Sure, yeah…just give me a minute,” Sam finds himself stuttering, and he puts the phone down on the closed toilet seat. He barely hears Dean say ‘alright’ and then he’s out of the bathroom grabbing for the opened bottle of water on his desk that he drains nearly empty. 

Really, Sam’s not sure why he’s panicking because he’s had plenty of fights with Dean before, but if he could take a guess he’d have to say Lucifer being the center of it is a pretty good reason. There was the time Sam had just gotten his license and used Dean’s impala for the night, where he got a full lecture from his brother for handling her too hard; and the time Sam had walked in on Dean and one of his high school girlfriends when they were making out in the living room, but even then, none of those times had Dean ever gotten so angry he refused to talk to Sam for so long. 

Never had either of them gone so long without a word from each other.

It seems smaller in the bathroom when Sam finally composes himself enough to go back to the phone. Enough that he takes to seating himself on the tiled floor in the corner between the door hinge and the wall with his legs sprawled in front of him for room to stretch if needs. On the other end of the phone, Sam can hear Dean breathing—but it comes out in irregular spurts of air. An inhale and an exhale with a pause in between, and in the moment it distracts Sam from saying that he’d returned. 

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says, “You still there?”

“Yeah,” Dean whispers. He stops taking the breaths. 

“Are you alright?” Sam adds then, because it seems like the right thing to ask with Dean calling so late at night. 

There’s a brief silence before Dean says, “No.” 

If Sam wasn’t worried about this talk a few minutes ago, then he is absolutely without a doubt worried about it now, because no could mean anything. No could mean: ‘I need you to come back to Kansas right now because something terrible has happened to me.’ To Dad, to us—no matter the noun the importance wouldn’t change. No could mean: ‘I made a mistake by calling.’ No could mean: ‘Maybe there is something wrong, but I wouldn’t tell you.’ No could mean so many terrible things that Sam’s head is spinning with all the nauseating possibilities that only snowball into worse and worse conclusions until Dean intercepts them. 

“Dad found out.”

“Found out?” 

“About me and Cas-,” Dean clarifies, “Castiel.”

Sam swallows. When they met with each other back in November Dean had introduced the mysterious guy in the booth next to him as Castiel, who had informed Sam that they were dating. And still currently were four months later according to Dean. Or _were_ in the past tense, now that their dad knew about it. The thought of it makes a shiver run down Sam’s spine. _Their dad found out about Dean dating a Morningstar._ Suddenly his anxiety about the situation triples. 

“Does he know I’m seeing Lucian?” Sam tries to sound firm, but it comes out shaky. 

“No,” Dean says. “He left after he saw me with Castiel the other day. Haven’t seen him since.” 

“He _left?_ ” Sam gapes. “And he didn’t say anything to you? He saw you with Castiel?”

Dean sighs on the other end. 

“Yeah, we were just fooling around in the garage,” Dean clears his throat. “I was supposed to be working under the hood but Cas surprised me by just coming by to visit after Church and I guess it spiraled from there. The look on dads face when he saw us though-…”

“Sam?” There’s a sudden shuffling outside the bathroom that Sam recognizes as Lucifer getting back from his walk, and he loses the last few bits of Dean’s story before telling him that he’s sorry but he’s going to have to put him on hold for a second. 

Lucifer raises an eyebrow when he sees Sam come out of the bathroom looking pale with a limp phone in his hand, and Sam’s sure he’s going to make a joke out of it any minute now—but it never comes. Instead he shrugs his bag off his shoulder and makes himself busy setting it out on the bed to organize a few of his papers from class, probably opting that Sam doesn’t want to talk about whatever it is. 

“Dean’s on the phone,” Sam says. “Our dad found out about him dating Castiel.”

A paper slides to the ground from the bed but Lucifer doesn’t pick it up right away.

“Oh,” Lucifer says quietly, “I see.” 

“Yeah.”

“And?” Lucifer rushes to pick the piece of paper up and gently places it back with the rest of the stack, making sure the edges match.

“I don’t know yet,” Sam says softly, keeping a careful eye on Lucifer’s movement. “I’ll be out in a minute,” He slips back into the bathroom before Lucifer says anything else.  


This time Sam opts out sitting, instead leaning against the only bare wall of the bathroom near the towel rack. The mirror is on the opposite side of the room, giving him a clear view of every detail making up his nervous expression, but he ignores it in favor of staring at the tiled floor. “Where is dad now?” Sam asks when he brings the phone back to his ear. 

“Gone, I guess—…I don’t know. He told me not to come home,” Dean sighs. “I wrote him a note for whenever he gets back but I’m bunking with a buddy for now.”

“How long?” Sam asks hesitantly. 

“About a week and a half now. I wanted to call you but it’s not exactly something I was comfortable talking about.” 

Sam looks up at the mirror. “So, what are you gonna do?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean’s tone suddenly shifts, “I’ve talked to Cas recently, we’re coming up with something.” 

“Something?” Sam laughs nervously. “What do you mean by that?” 

Dean doesn’t laugh though. There’s an intake of breath on the other end, and it’s slower unlike before. Sam subconsciously holds his breath along with it, but then Dean says, “We’re running away,” And the breath is immediately released. 

“What?” Sam’s voice bounces back off the walls, coming back to his ears just as loud as the original exclamation, but this time he doesn’t flinch. He’s running away? With Castiel? Did he even think through how that would work?

Apparently he had. When Sam asks him, Dean says it’s been a thing in progress before dad even found out, and that with their combined savings they had enough to get away for half a year maximum. That would give them time to think about what they were going to do next, but the main goal was getting away. The whole idea makes Sam frown, and he fights the urge to bring up that afternoon in the chilly November air four months ago behind the restaurant when Dean had practically said the same thing to him. That taking that road-trip with Lucifer in the summer before college started was exactly the same thing as running away. 

But he doesn’t say that. He doesn’t say anything, actually—because by the time he thinks of something to follow up his clear shock over it, Dean says he has to go and hangs up without much more than a _take care_. 

Sam thinks about calling back and leaving a message, demanding him to tell him where he’s going, but he doesn’t do that either. Instead he stands there and stares at the mirror, same pale and surprised expression as before, hoping Lucifer doesn’t come knocking.

Eventually Sam showers, splashes his face with cold water and wraps himself up in a towel. On the other side of the door it’s quiet, but Sam knows Lucifer is still awake. His eyes immediately flick up from the book he’s reading when he enters the room, and there’s an equal mix of curiosity and something else in them that Sam can’t quite decipher. 

“Sam?” He asks.

“We’re taking another road-trip this summer.” 

Lucifer shuts his book.


End file.
